Morning in Elsinore
by Rosepixie
Summary: A series of very short stories about characters from Shakespeare's Hamlet in the morning. There is very little plot, but it is safe to assume that the stories all take place on the same morning, so small connections may become evident. I have no current plans to expand any of these, but may continue to add more of them over time.
1. Claudius

Prince Claudius rubbed the sleep from his eyes as best he could as his groom silently moved around him, ensuring that he was perfectly dressed and made ready for the day. The king was at home and so more formal dress than usual was called for, although Claudius doubted that his brother really cared about such things.

A glance in the looking glass assured him that everything was as it should be. He strode out of his chambers and made his way to the intimate royal breakfast room. A maid was laying out breakfast, but there was no sign of his brother yet. Queen Gertrude always ate breakfast in her chambers and young Prince Hamlet was away at school, so the king's absence left Claudius to eat alone.

With a sigh, the prince sat down to his meal. He was not looking forward to the day. When King Hamlet was away, the running of the country was left to his queen. She worked with Claudius to manage it all and, while the work was never ending and the kingdom only seemed to gain more troubles as it waged war on its neighbors, Claudius treasured those times.

When Hamlet was home, though, Gertrude spent most of her time crying in her chambers as her husband ignored the needs of his people and searched for new fights to start. If Claudius got too involved in trying to run the country, Hamlet became enraged, yet he himself showed little interest in doing so. It was a mess and the people of Denmark were the ones to suffer for it.

When things were especially bad, and particularly when Gertrude was suffering keenly, Claudius sometimes let his thoughts darken. As much as he hated his brother, though, he doubted that he could ever really bring himself to do anything about the situation. Once in a while, though, when Gertrude came to him in tears, he thought that perhaps it was possible. At those times, he found that he had a difficult time seeing how such a drastic act could be anything but an improvement.

Claudius munched on dry toast as his thoughts continued to stray down the dangerous path they tended to tread when his brother was home. It would be best if Hamlet left with his generals again very soon, before Claudius became too tempted.


	2. Gertrude

A maid pushed the queen's door open with her hip and carried in a tray. She set it on a table and went to open the curtains around the queen's bed. She expected to find the queen asleep, but there she was, staring up at the canopy with tears on her cheeks.

"Good morning, Your Majesty," the maid murmured quietly. The queen sat up and the maid plumped the pillows behind her head.

"Thank you," the queen mumbled. The girl only nodded and set the breakfast tray across the queen's lap. With a bob of a curtsy, she stepped out of the room and left the queen alone again to her thoughts.

With a shuddering sigh, Queen Gertrude picked up a piece of toast. She was so tired. She had been unable to sleep all night. She wasn't sure when things had gotten so bad. Perhaps they had always been this way and she had simply failed to notice.

She had been married to King Hamlet when she was so young. She had been in awe of him then. He was so strong and so commanding, a perfect picture of a king. It had all impressed her so very much.

It had long since become apparent that those very qualities were the root of all their problems, though. Hamlet relished war so much that he looked for reasons to fight them all the time. He and his army were indeed fearsome, but their near constant campaigns had all but destroyed Denmark's relationships with its neighbors. Not to mention its treasury.

Gertrude, perpetually left behind, ended up forced to do nearly all of the actual running of the kingdom. Thankfully, she had the help of her husband's younger brother. Keeping a kingdom going when it was constantly at war was exhausting. Almost exhausting enough to make her not notice that her husband never wrote to her or to their son, that he didn't know anything about either of them and didn't show any desire to, that he only came to her bed after drunken celebrations of successful campaigns.

She went to every length she could to ensure that her son never felt the sting of his father's deficiencies, but she had not been so adept at shielding herself. It had become increasingly unbearable, but what could she do? Perhaps he would die in one of his battles and never return to her.

Tears fell into her cup of tea, but she continued to drink it anyway. What difference did it make if the salt of her tears ruined the taste?


	3. Polonius

Polonius groaned as the light of the sun forced its way behind his eyelids and sharply pierced his unusually sensitive eyes. He rolled over in his bed and used a cushion to protect himself from the accusatory light of day.

He tried to convince himself that it wasn't his fault. What was he supposed to do when the king ordered him to take another drink? He couldn't be expected to risk the king's ire over something as trivial as another mugful, could he?

A knocking at his door made him wince. He knew that he had brought this on himself, but that didn't stop him from wishing that the rest of the world had chosen to sleep in this morning.

Despite the fact that Polonius did not answer the knocking, his servant pushed the door open and entered anyway.

"My Lord Polonius," the man said (far too loudly for his master's taste). "Prince Claudius requests your attendance in his office shortly and your son is waiting outside to speak with you."

"Canst not put them off for a time?" Polonius groaned, making no move to get up.

"Fie, slug-a-bed!" the servant reprimanded. "I'll not risk my neck asking the king's brother to wait for you!"

Polonius wrinkled his nose in annoyance at the servant's impertinence, but he couldn't argue with the logic of the statement. Seeing no help for it, he did what he had to and got up. As the lord dragged himself out of the bed and washed his face and hands in a basin of fresh water, his servant fetched him clean clothes.

While he would never admit it aloud, Polonius looked forward to the king leaving again on another campaign. He was getting too old for these boisterous nightly revels.


End file.
